


On the Run (And We've Only Just Begun)

by Darnaguen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Room, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darnaguen/pseuds/Darnaguen
Summary: Poe and Rey find themselves stranded on Coruscant and hunted by the First Order goons when a recon mission goes awry.Originally a drabble prompt from the classic “It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.” trope. It kind of didn't stay at drabble length. Oops.I may have ended up subverting some of them to be more true to the characters, but I did enjoy a chance to use some of the most beloved slow-burn type of tropes in the book. Hope you enjoy it too.





	1. Chapter 1

–-  


“You think we lost them?”

They collapse against the door as Rey nods her assent mutely between gasps of breath.

Poe sheds his flight jacket and does a quick security check.

The Resistance safe house is small and sparse: desk and a chair, a small bed, tiny med bay in the corner, even tinier refresher. No windows, no holocommunicators.

As he paces the room he runs both of his hands through his hair, making it stick up comically.   
Rey allows herself a small, private grin.

“Beebee-Ate will be fine,” she assures him. “He’ll find Finn and get the data to… To General Organa.”   
( _Aunt Leia_ , her heart wants to say. But it feels too intimate still, somehow. Like she hasn’t earned it . Not yet.)

“I know,” Poe gives her a quick, warm smile. “To be honest, it’s not him I’m most worried about.”

Rey frowns. _Poe never worries._

Her frown deepens when she catches the thought. _How would I know that?_  
Nevertheless, the idea unsettles her.

-

“You’re bleeding,” she realizes.

Despite her exhaustion, she’s instantly on her feet. Poe glances down at the bloom of red spreading on the off-grey shirt.

“Oh, just a scratch,” he says, but Rey is already negotiating with the ancient FX unit in the corner.

“No, no. I can do it myself,” she replies gently to its concerned beeps.

“And you?” She turns to Poe with a mock-glare. “You sit down.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grins.

It doesn’t take long to dig out the shrapnel from his upper chest and apply the bacta patch, but the adrenaline crash is making them both weary and self-conscious. The air between them crackles with uneasy energy.

Rey keeps her eyes firmly on the task at hand and Poe tries not to flinch (her hands are steady but her touch _tingles_ ) - or stare. Her freckles are much more pronounced up close, and there are bits of gold and green in her brown eyes. _Like stardust._

But he knew that, didn’t he?

“Do you remember how we met?”

She looks a little startled at first, but then grins. “How could I forget?”

Somehow the memory of the joyful, spontaneous embrace makes them both slightly more at ease.

“I never thanked you for looking after Beebee-Ate, did I? I’m sorry.”

She glances up at him and smiles. “No need. But you’re welcome.”

“There. All done.” She gives his shoulder an awkward pat and stands up.

Suddenly the room feels very small again.

-

“The bacta and the blood loss can make you a little woozy, so… you should probably lie down.”

Poe is indeed starting to feel a little light-headed, but not for the first time he notices her trembling hands and the signs of exhaustion on her face.

“What about you?”

Both are suddenly very aware of the single, narrow bed in the room.

She folds her arms and looks at the floor to avoid the concern in his eyes.

“We need to take turns anyway. It’s not safe.”

“We both need rest. _You_ need rest,” he tells her gently. “You threw an _entire blast door_ at them. Jedi or not, that can’t have been easy.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression softens. “I can nap on the gurney, or meditate. You’re injured. _You_ sleep.”

He wants to protest, but his eyelids feel like lead.

“Tell you what. You win.” His speech is already slurring. “But wake me up in an hour, okay?”

“Okay,” she promises, but he’s already out of it.

-

She pulls the thin, worn blanket over him and considers pulling off his boots as well. _Better not, we’re not in the clear yet._

For a moment she just stands in the middle of the room, unsure what to do, then impulsively grabs the discarded flight jacket from the chair.  
Its weight is familiar on her shoulders as she wraps it around herself and sits on the floor at the foot of the bed.

She closes her eyes and breathes deep.

_“Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge…”_

Soon only soft snores fill the dimly lit room. She smiles.

–-

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been going back and forth with this forever and am still not exactly happy with it, but I figured this has remained unfinished long enough. Might rewrite the whole thing at some point.
> 
> I hope you enjoy - but concrit, as ever, appreciated!

–-

_She no longer dreams of the island. She has already found her home._

_Instead, it’s more and more often the open sky that calls to her._

_Sometimes the twin suns glare off of her wings, sometimes she soars above the vast jungles and ancient, ruined temples. Sometimes it’s just the calming silence of the deep space._

_‘Freedom’, it whispers to her._

*

When he wakes up, the lights in the room have dimmed to near darkness: the glowing wall panel indicates sleep cycle. He bolts out of the bed, disoriented, and tries to shake off the tendrils of a persistent nightmare and the pounding headache.

 _Right, the bacta_. He touches the patch gingerly, but the wound is barely sore anymore.

Then the dark bundle at the foot of the bed catches his eye.

*

_“Rey? Hey, Rey. Wake up.”_

The sudden note of concern in the voice calls her back from high above and she opens her eyes. Poe’s face is close to hers in the dim light, giving his sleep-tousled hair a funny halo.

She rubs her eyes. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”, he’s chiding her gently, brows furrowed. “I would’ve…”

But she’s no longer listening. Still in a sleepy haze, she reaches out to touch his face before she can stop herself.

“He hurt you too.”

(The scars are barely visible now. But she _knows_ , and anger flares in her chest.)

He closes his mouth, bewildered, and she snatches her hand back. He feels an immediate sense of loss. _Get yourself together, Dameron_.

*

“Charming fellow, your cousin,” he tries to joke, but she senses his confusion. Pain. Anger. Fear. Just below the surface still.  
Something… else as well. Something she doesn’t dare to examine. She screws her eyes shut and breathes deep.

“I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s just…I can’t help it.” Her cheeks burn and she can’t meet his eyes.

“I know. I mean, I think I understand.”

She lifts her gaze in shock. He’s smiling sheepishly at her.

“I mean, not on _that_ level.” He gestures vaguely at her. 

(What _that_ exactly is is unspoken but understood.)

*

“But…?” Rey eyes him curiously as he eases himself down onto the floor next to her and absent-mindedly touches the ring in a chain around his neck.

“Did you know my mother was a pilot too?”

“No, but please tell me about her,” she smiles as she pulls her knees up against her chest. 

Poe leans back against the bed. “She and my father, they fought with the Rebel Alliance. She flew an A-Wing in the Green Squadron, he was one of General Solo’s Pathfinders.”

She nods, smiling a little sadly at the mention of Han. “Special Forces, right?”

“Yeah,“ he smiles and she curls into a more comfortable position, eyes bright and attentive.

“Anyway, after the Battle of Endor they planned to retire and settle down on Yavin to raise me, but before they did Master Skywalker had one last mission for my mother…”

–-


End file.
